


A Dying Man’s Wish

by JenlockPilgrim



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:45:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenlockPilgrim/pseuds/JenlockPilgrim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom was a mistake. And the man from whom she tried to hide her true identity for so long, the one she knew she’ll never have, was the man who made her see the mistake she’s made. Not that it mattered much now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dying Man’s Wish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizJoely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/gifts).



> This is my secret Valentine's day surprise was miz-joely!  
> I have to say, I had something completely different planned and I got really scared when I saw you asked for Vampires, so I really hope that you'll like it!  
> (Also I feel like I should mention this is the first smut I have ever written so I have no idea if it's good.)

Molly sighed in relief as she rolled the body into its drawer. Her shift was finally over, and she was so tired and hungry. She rolled her shoulders in hope it will help the stinging pain in her muscles, though she knew it wouldn’t. Her whole body ached, screaming it needs to be fed, her throat dry and burning. She tried to remember the last time she fed herself properly- there were a few drops from that Jane Doe a few days ago… but nothing more. The last time she had a proper dinner was at least a month ago.

Molly made her way to the sink and started scrubbing her hands. She felt her eyes starting to burn, too. Sometimes she hated her choice, the way she lived. She was a vampire, and vampires were supposed to hunt down their pray. She tried it once, running around in the Jungle of London in the middle of the night, but the only thing she got from it is learning that the British vampires were not polite at all, and very jealous of their territory. And that’s how the morgue turned into her territory, and instead of using her sharp senses for hunting, she used them for smelling diseases in the bodies she operated on in order to know if their blood would be good for drinking. But sometimes the cold corpse’s blood wasn’t enough for her. Those were the days when she went to one of those awful vampires bars. Most of the humans didn’t know about the existence of vampires in their world, and it was better off this way. But there were some who were obsessed with the idea, who wished to be vampires themselves, or a source for blood. That’s how the first vampire bars were opened, in the late hours of the night, in dark alleys. Molly snored at the thought of those humans who worked by all the old silly stereotypes they read in fiction novels. She always wished there would be one decent bar, nicely lit, that didn’t stink from blood and buzz. She knew that others would consider her posh, but maybe she was.

She gripped the edge of the sink tightly and leaned on it, trying to decide. She wanted some fresh blood, but the last time she went to one of those bars was a disaster. She had already had three drinks and shooed away too many dark haired boys with too much makeup when she saw him. Sitting alone, shyly looking around him. It wasn’t his first time, maybe the third, and Molly could see he was clearly lost between the giggling girls who sat next to him, probably thinking he was a vampire himself due to his fare skin. They were first timers.

She stood up, took her drink and approached the three. He had curled hair and an awkward smile, and he tied his scarf in a way which reminded her of someone, but she kicked that thought out of her head.

She cleaned her throat before asking, “May I sit with you?”

“We’re sitting with, if you didn’t notice,” one of the girls spat in her direction.

“Not for long, dear,” she smiled at them.

Most humans didn’t recognize she was a vampire in first glance, as she was so ordinary. Boring brown hair combined with boring brown eyes didn’t fit the recently popular descriptions of vampires. But real life wasn’t Twilight, and being a vampire didn’t improve her looks. But Molly still knew how to use what she had, and a small smile which reviled her fangs was enough. The two girls stood up quickly and left.

“Thank you,” he smiled to her, “I really didn’t know what to tell them, they were so sure I was a vampire.”

“Yes, I could see that from across the room,” she smiled at him again, this time with her fangs hidden. He looked at her with confusion. “Oh, I can control when they’re out and when they’re inside.”

“Inside?”

“Yes. They just fold back into the Maxilla, which is the upper jaw. I’m Molly, by the way,” she starched her hand out.

“Nice to meet you, Molly,” he took her hand and shook it, “I’m Tom.”

Tom was a mistake. One night of nice sex and blood turned into more, until she suddenly asked him out for dinner, and they were dating. She liked having fresh blood whenever she wanted, she had never had that, but it was still a mistake. But she realized it too late, after he had proposed to her. She realized that because Sherlock Holmes was back.

The man from whom she tried to hide her true identity for so long, the one she knew she’ll never have, was the man who made her see the mistake she’s made.

Not that it mattered much now. The day he learned her engagement was over he got himself shot and almost died. She remembered how she bit her own finger and almost let a drop of her blood fall into his mouth when he was asleep. It will cure him in a few days, instead of weeks, but at the last moment she drew her hand back and sucked on her own blood until the wound closed. She was too scared he’ll know.

Christmas came shortly after, and suddenly she learned Sherlock was accused of manslaughter and that Mycroft was sending him away so that he wouldn’t have to go to prison.

The sound of the door behind her opening made her jump.

“Sherlock,” he was striding towards her, his long coat twirling around him. He was the only human who could surprise her when she was stuck in her thoughts, the only one who could sneak behind her as if he popped out of nowhere.

“Molly,” he stopped so close to her she could see the blood pumping in the veins in his neck, “I came to tell you I’m leaving.”

“Y-yes,” she cleared her throat, “Mrs. Hudson called to tell me.”

He sighed and looked around before focusing back on her face, “I’m not coming back, Molly.”

“What do you mean?” she narrowed her eyebrows.

“Mycroft said that I’ll die in about six months after starting this mission.”

She gasped, but before she had a chance to day anything, Sherlock started talking again.

“I have no other choice, I’m so sorry, Molly, I swear that if I would have had another choice-“

“But you had!” Molly yelled at him, “Why did you kill-“

“Because I had no other choice,” he snarled at her, “I had to protect someone very dear to me.”

Molly looked down, she just couldn’t look at his face anymore. All she wanted was to go home and cuddle Toby, and now this.

“Is this a goodbye, then?” she finally asked.

“I’m so sorry, Mol-“

“-What are you apologizing for? You didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he took another step closer, “when there was so much I should have done.”

“Stop it, just stop it already.”

There he was, doing it to her all over again. Her heart raced and she felt her cheeks growing hot. Something twisted in her stomach when she saw his eyes grow darker, the tip of his lip twitching as the wheels turned faster and faster in his brain. He was analyzing her too, of course, as he always did. But unlike her, he always knew what she was thinking, what she was about to say.

“I do know what I’m getting myself into,” he said, and his words pierced through her.

“No, you don’t. You don’t know me, Sherlock,” she whispered desperately. He couldn’t know, she tried so hard to hide it from him, from everyone around her.

She saw how he leaned closer, how his hands reached out to her. She could feel him holding her shoulders tightly, as tight as a human can, and his lips crushing into hers, but she did nothing. He was soft, and his scent surrounded her in a thick, sweet cloud. The one thing she always wanted, the one thing she always tried to prevent. But if Mycroft is right, this is the last time she’ll ever see him. This is their goodbye, so she might as well give in to him. She parted her lips for him, inviting him in. It wasn’t the way she imagined it, demanding and brutal like he was with her as his pathologist. He was carful, his tongue tracing her lips lightly, barely touching, before slipping into her mouth. His tongue danced with hers for a moment before tracing her teeth, focusing on the fangs she had pulled out without even noticing.

Molly broke the kiss with a dry laugh.

“Is something wrong?” he asked quickly.

“No, no,” she blurted out and took a deep breath, “Well, yes, actually. You’re investigating me, Sherlock. I’m a puzzle to be solved.”

“This is not the reason I’m doing this,” he said simply, “I’ve known for a long time, Molly. This may be the first time I’m kissing a vampire, but you’re not a case.”

“What am I, then?”

“I’ve already told you that, more than once. You are the one person who mattered the most, the one person I needed.”

It was all Molly needed to hear, and suddenly she didn’t care that he knew the truth and that he hid it from her. She kissed him again and throw her hands around his neck, hungry not for his blood, but for his touch. He wrapped his hand around her waist and crushed her closer to him, parting her legs with his knee. She could feel him hard against her stomach, and her hands rushed to the buttons of his shirt. Sherlock moved her hands away so that he could push her lab coat and cardigan off her shoulders and broke the kiss, only for a second, in order the lift her blouse and toss it away. And then his kisses trailed down her jaw to her neck, stopping at her pulse for a moment and sucking on it. Molly laughed at how human urges were so similar to the vampire ones- knowing there was someone alive under their mouth, a warm body to hold. At the sound of her laugh Sherlock looked up at her through his eyelashes, his eyes glittering with the smile she could feel pressed to her skin her skin.

One of his hands found the clip of her bra and opened it, and Molly let it fall from her body to the floor. Sherlock took a step back, looking at her body before finding her eyes again.

“You are beautiful, Molly Hopper,” his voice was husky and low with lust. Molly could do nothing but smile at him, her breath heavy, and she started working on the buttons of his shirt again. He helped her until their hands met at the middle, and he grabbed her hand in his before leaning down to kiss her again. He was gentle again, kissing her softly and slowly, playing with her bottom lip between his teeth. Molly lifted their entwined hands to his bare chest and placed them over his heart, feeling its fast beat under his skin. She broke the kiss in order to gulp some air, and Sherlock rested his forehead against hers.

“How long have you known what I am?” she asked him.

“Since the moment we met.”

Molly smiled, “Well you are the world’s only consulting detective.”

“You are making fun of me,” he stated, before letting go of her hand and cupping her face in his hands.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she felt safe with his hands covering her face, like she was a small creature he had taken under his protection, rather than a vampire who was stronger and faster than him.

“I understand that there are some secrets people wish to keep, and therefore it is not my place to revile those secrets.”

“Thank you,” she stood on her tiptoes to give him a long kiss. Her hands climbed to his shoulders and pushed the layers of fabric away from his skin, and once again her body ached for his touch. Sherlock’s hands started exploring her body, running up and down her back, to her stomach and upwards, circling around her breasts. His circles grow smaller and smaller until he reached her nipples, causing Molly to shiver. He then grabbed her waist and lifted her to the counter by the sink, his head ducking to her breasts. He took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked on it and a moan escaped Molly’s lips. He continued to so for a few moments before moving to her other nipple, and by that time Molly could feel the wetness pool in her knickers. Her hands searched blindly for the buckle of his belt, with which she struggled to a few moments. After she finally managed to get rid of his belt it only took her a second to open his trousers’ button and zipper and push them down with his pants. When she took hold of his cock Sherlock froze for a moment, but as she started running her hand up and down his length he quickly turned to work on her trousers. He grabbed her by the waist again and pulled her off the counter in order to remove the remains of her clothing, after which Molly found herself sitting again on the counter with her legs wrapped around Sherlock. His cock nudged her wet entrance and he looked at her as if he was waiting for permission. Molly encouraged him with a kiss and he penetrated her slowly. He moved carefully, letting her adjust to him before he quickened his pace.

Molly held him close to her with her hands around his back, moaning quietly with the sensation of his movement inside her. She breathed his scent in, the familiar sharp Sherlock mixed with sweat and sex, and her throat burnt with want. She found the right spot in his neck and kissed it before letting her fangs break the delicate flesh. The taste was as rich as she expected it would be, but still better than she imagined. She only took a few sips before biting her own tongue and letting her own blood mix with his, and the wound started to close.

Sherlock’s fingers reached her clit, and Molly whimpered, as he started to move faster with almost no rhythm at all. She felt the pressure building inside her stomach as Sherlock thrust into her. Her body tensed for a moment when she reached her peak and she released a long moan as her body shivered with the orgasm. It doesn’t take Sherlock more than a few frantic thrusts before he groaned into her ear and slowed down to a stop. His lips find hers again for a long kiss.

“Come with me tonight,” he half asked half demanded of her, but Molly nodded without even thinking about it. How could she refuse to a dying man’s wish?


End file.
